Anne & Gilbert: What Could Have Been Anne with an E
by cordeliaflowers
Summary: Written after S3/E10 of Anne with an E aired in Canada, and after the devastating news that this beloved series will not be renewed for a 4th season. Admittedly, I am in the depths of despair. I plan to use this platform to work through my grief, and hope that you will join me for this - and other - explorations into what could have been. Thank you, Moira Walley-Beckett.
1. Chapter 1

Anne and Gilbert exchanged many letters that fall. There was so much to discuss. Queen's Academy. The University of Toronto. Journalism. Medicine. Family, friends, independence. The list went on and on.

Of course, there were also many follow-up questions that needed answering. Why hadn't Gilbert responded to Anne's letter confessing her love? Why, he hadn't received it. Why hadn't Anne responded to Gibert's letter confessing his love? Why, she'd tore it up in a fit of rage and then accidentally misinterpreted it. Why had Gilbert pursued a relationship with Winnifred when his heart belonged to Anne?

"You can only know something when you know it, and not a minute before," Gilbert repeated with his finest penmanship, recalling the guilt he'd felt that day he'd revealed his true feelings to Winnifred.

The letters Anne and Gilbert exchanged that September and October were deep and rich and candid and heartfelt and all things beautiful and honest. In short, they were perfect. But, rather than let their longing for one another and their homesickness get the better of them, the two scholars threw themselves into their studies. Anne joined the College newspaper and was noticed almost immediately by the faculty for her outspoken opinion pieces. Gilbert buckled down in the University's libraries, spending countless hours reading, writing, and wrestling with old and new theories of wellness and preventative medicine.

Still, Anne and Gilbert couldn't manage the thought of waiting until Christmas break to see one another again and so they hatched a plan. Anne would take an extra long weekend mid-November and make her way to Toronto by train. Gilbert would rather have traveled to Charlottetown but his labs were scheduled for Friday evenings, Monday mornings, and Thursday afternoons and he couldn't risk an absence in a program as competitive as his. He disliked the idea of Anne travelling alone unchaperoned but he knew she could handle it; she was a seasoned voyager after all!

Anne awoke Wednesday morning beside herself in anticipation.

"Today's the day!" she said aloud, almost waking Diana.

The train was scheduled to depart at 1:00 pm that afternoon and it would be over a day before she arrived at Toronto's Union Station so provisions were a must. Not food so much as fuel for the imagination. She packed some of her required reading from school and a few plays she'd checked out of the library: _The Importance of Being Earnest_ by Oscar Wilde and Shakespeare's _Hamlet_. Both were being performed by the College's drama society the next semester and Anne had been mulling over the possibility of auditioning. She'd tried to convince Diana to sign up too but she was already in over her head preparing for her piano examinations. Diana was very talented, but it turns out that wasn't particularly well trained. She simply had to do well as her parents' permission to attend Queen's was contingent on a strong standing in first year and her peers were already so very far ahead of her.

Anne also packed some note paper and her fountain pen. She'd decided to write a feature story about the surprising lack of female teachers at the College and she was looking forward to the quiet of the ride to really puzzle out her arguments.

Unfortunately, the train was anything but quiet. Right off the hop, Anne was seated with an exhausted mother and a pair of twin toddlers. The girls screamed and cried and fought and, despite Anne's previous experience in child care, it was simply too much to bear. Some issue with the ventilation had closed the observation car so she had no choice but to set up shop in the dining car. The wait staff were less than impressed when she spread her books across the white linen table cloth and set to work on her article.

"Huh hem." The waiter cleared his throat.

"Yes?," said Anne.

"May I take your order?"

"My order? Oh, yes, of course … um, I'm really not that hungry. What is the smallest item on the menu?"

"The smallest? I suppose that would be the tomato soup."

"Ok, sure, I'll have that. Thank you," said Anne, not even looking up from her pages.

"Is that all?" asked the waiter, not afraid to reveal his annoyance.

"Yes, thank you," said Anne, not noticing. The task at hand was much more important. Why was it that 95% of the teaching staff at the College were male? Was there a lack of qualified female applicants and, if so, why was that? What sort of systemic barriers were standing in the way of the great female minds of Prince Edward Island, Canada, and the world? So caught up in the anticipation of the discoveries that lie ahead, Anne didn't notice when the waiter returned with her soup.

She was reading some remarks by the College's founder when she stumbled across a particularly chauvinist passage.

"That pig!" she exclaimed, slamming her fist on the table. Before she knew it, she'd knocked over the tomato soup and drenched her outfit in thick red broth. Her favourite cream coloured blouse she'd worn specifically for the big reunion was ruined, and she hadn't packed a spare. "Blast!" she exclaimed.

"Excuse me, Miss. I am going to have to ask you to leave," said the waiter.

"What?! Oh fine!" Anne pulled some money from her purse, grabbed her soggy books and pages, and stormed off.

Not keen on returning to the scene of the crime, Anne avoided the dining car for the rest of the trip. It was mid-afternoon when she realized she hadn't thought to pack any snacks. A friendly older woman sitting a few rows away had put the pieces together by around dinner time and shared her sandwich with Anne, for which Anne was very grateful.

The night was long and uncomfortable. Determined not to spend too much of the travel allowance Matthew had given her, Anne had opted for a seat in economy class for the 30 hours trip instead of sleeper cabin, a decision she now deeply regretted. By the morning, she was sore all over. Making things worse, something about the sandwich she'd eaten wasn't sitting right and by around 11:00 am Anne was holed up in the water closed sick to her stomach.

It was 7:00 pm by the time the train rolled into Toronto. Anne was desperate to get off but weak from dehydration and slow to advance. It seemed to take forever to make her way down the platform, up the stairs, and down the long corridor to the arrivals area. As she walked, she seemed to draw the attention of passer-bys. Maybe it was the mess of red hair strewn about all over her head or the big red stain down the front of her clothes. Or maybe it was the mild odor. Or maybe still is was the crazed look in her eyes. It was hard to say for sure.

She couldn't see Gilbert waiting at first. She scanned the crowd a few times, worried that perhaps they'd gotten their wires crossed. And then she saw him at the furthest end of the station, sitting cross-legged with his hat in his hands talking to a raven-haired girl. The two of them were laughing hysterically. Anne watched them for a moment, trying to figure out exactly what she was looking at. She was so tired in that moment that she accidentally dropped her suitcase and the echo of it slamming against the marble floors rang throughout the station.

"Anne!" called Gilbert, running toward her. She tried to stop him for fear of repulsing him but he was entirely unphased. He scooped her into his arms and twirled her around.

"Oh, I've missed you so!"

"I've missed you too, Gil …" Anne's stomach leapt into her throat and she lurched for a nearby garbage can, lucky not to have tossed her cookies onto the marble floor.

"Anne, are you alright?"

"Yes. I wish there was something tragical or poetic about the state I find myself in the evening but, alas, I'm afraid it's as simple and pathetic as this: I've eaten a bad tuna salad sandwich and I've been sick all day." She sighed. "Gilbert, please take me somewhere to lie down."

"Of course," said Gilbert, smiling a little. "Anne, this is Christine. She's studying medicine with me. She's the only woman in our class, can you believe that?"

"Remarkable," said Anne unconvincingly, observing how stunningly beautiful and put together Christine was.

"Christine has kindly arranged a room for you at her women's boarding house," offered Gilbert.

"Much appreciated."


	2. Chapter 2

"Thank you Christine. I sincerely appreciate your hospitality," said Anne, wearily. She sat down on the edge of the small bed. The guest room at Christine's boarding house was perfectly sufficient and Anne was thrilled to be off her feet and desperate for a rest so it really could have been a tent in the middle of the desert for all she was concerned.

"No trouble at all. Good night, Anne," said Christine. She turned and left the room, carefully pulling closed the door behind her. Anne flopped down on the bed and shut her eyes, unable to will herself to change into her bed clothes in that moment due to shear exhaustion.

"Who was that?" asked Kathleen who lived just across the hall, as soon as Christine stepped out of Anne's room.

"That's Gilbert's girl. Anne Shirley-Cuthbert."

"Gilbert Blythe? Really? Honest to God, I thought you and he were at item, Christine."

"No, no, we're just good friends," protested Christine, lightly. There was something in the way Christine said this, something about the way she shaped the words, that convinced Anne she'd been smiling while she said it.

"Oh go on," said Kathleen. "You two are thick as thieves! So, Gilbert's got a girl from back home, eh? I wonder if she bakes? I'm my experience, girls from home always bake!" Kathleen quipped, her laughter oozing with judgement and condescension.

"Ha! That's enough, Kate."

"I'm just saying, I assumed Gilbert's girl would be, I don't know, better looking somehow? I mean, he's the most handsome gent on campus!"

"I'm going to stop you right there. Good night, Kathleen."

"Alright, alright, I'm done. Good night, Christine."

Anne was stunned. She lay there on the bed, not moving, with her mouth wide open like a cod fish. She couldn't really fault the speakers for their comments; she'd long believed herself to be unattractive so she could hardly hold it against others that they felt the same way. It had been ages since she'd put any real stock in her appearance, however. Her correspondence with Gilbert was full of ideas and opinions and he'd made her feel regarded for her mind and her convictions. In the letters they'd shared, her childhood fascination with good looks had all but slipped away, and she'd come to see herself in a different light altogether. Yet here she was, alone in a dark room in the middle of Toronto completely shattered by the words of two relative strangers. She was ugly, and Christine was magnificent. What was it the second speaker had said about the two of them? Thick as thieves was it? Why hadn't Gilbert mentioned their friendship? Any other evening, her mind would have turned and turned the whole night over with questions such as these and her sleep completely fraught, however total fatigue overcame her within a few minutes. She changed in her bedclothes and crawled into bed, unsure of how to feel about the day to come.

Gilbert was waiting in the parlour the next morning with copies of the day's newspapers. Three of the publications he'd gotten his hands on were from the other side of the world and at least two of them were papers he suspected Anne had never read before, so he expected to be on the receiving end of her enthusiasm when he presented them to her. He was not wrong.

Anne was ecstatic, even more than anticipated. An onlooker may have thought she'd had one too many cups of coffee that morning, but it was more likely a combination of the butterflies she felt at seeing him again after all these months coupled with the anxiety and self-doubt that had crept in the previous evening and her genuine love of the world and all of it's stories. She devoured the news and her breakfast, and hardly stopped talking long enough to take a breath throughout.

Gilbert couldn't get enough of it, enough of her. Love was a funny thing. Ever since that day on the cliff's edge overlooking the ocean, he'd known his heart with absolute certainty. And yet, upon reflection, he'd come to realize that he'd always loved Anne. First in little, curious ways. Then, in strange and uncomfortable ways. And ultimately, in deep and powerful ways. And here she was, sitting before him, practically inhaling her fruit scone and scribbling notes in the margins of the newspaper at a million miles a minute; she was as magnificent as remembered and he was aglow just being near to her.

"I have a full day planned for us," said Gilbert. "I hope you've brought your walking shoes."

"Of course! I am so looking forward to drinking in the city, Gilbert. Your city. You've told me so much and now I want to match pictures to your words and fill in the blanks."

First on the day's agenda, a tour of the campus, and what a beautiful campus it was! Gilbert made sure to stop at every library for Anne, and he'd carved out nearly an hour to show her around the Faculty of Medicine buildings and the Ontario Medical College for Women. It was then he explained that technically Christine wasn't in their class, for women were not allowed (yet!) but she might as well have been. She socialized with their group and was heaps smarter than the lot of them.

"Just wait until tonight!" exclaimed Gilbert.

"What's tonight?" Anne countered.

"Trivia at The Wheat Sheaf. You're going to love it - it's heaps of fun!"

"Sounds … delightful," said Anne flatly, less than amused at the prospect of seeing Christine again in all of her glory.

The tour lasted much longer than the couple had expected and before they knew it the day was gone. It was 3:00 pm and their feet hurt something terrible so it was decided that they would part ways for a quick rest and then reunite for dinner and the much anticipated trivia night.

Gilbert walked Anne back to Christine's boarding house, awkwardly fussing about with his hands the whole time. The closer they got to the front door, the more Anne talked and talked. It had dawned on both of them sometime after lunch that day that, besides their short-lived greeting in the train station the night before, they hadn't really touched one another. And now, with so much of the day behind them and so many hours of not touching between them, going from not touching to touching seemed like an impossible hurdle.

The intimate moment they'd shared in Charlottetown back in September had everything going for it: mind-blowing new information, incredibly tight timelines, and the impending prospect of many desperate miles and months apart. They were brazen and determined to right a wrong and grab life with both hands and so they'd kissed not once but three times!

But, now, they felt young and afraid. So much had led to this visit. So many letters, so much anticipation. And so very much hung in the balance. Their love, their partnership, their future together. It was overwhelming and both were overcome with anxiety and hormones. They stopped at the bottom of the stairs, and turned to one another.

"I …" Anne and Gilbert said at the same time, challenged at this moment to find the rhythm and flow they'd enjoyed all afternoon.

"You go," said Gilbert.

"No, you, please," countered Anne.

After a short pause, Gilbert said: "I was going to say that we've been here before, in a matter of speaking."

"Yes, indeed. I'm almost afeared that Mrs. Blackmore is going to pop out the front door and remind me that suitors are welcome only on Sunday afternoons as she did after our last … encounter."

"A suitor, is that what I am?" Gilbert asked, cheekily, he's eyes ablaze.

"Um, I didn't mean to imply, I mean I …" Anne stammered. Gilbert reached his right hand to lightly stroke Anne's left cheek.

"Carrots," he said softly, smiling. "We know what we are to one another." Anne froze, caught between her unbelievable desire to devour Gilbert with a kiss that would put Lancelot and Guinevere to shame and her new found insecurity. Gilbert put his other hand on her other cheek and gazed into her eyes. She felt so comfortable there, so completely seen by him, so loved, that she reached for his arms and began to pull him into her. The two were inches apart in this, the moment they'd anticipated for days upon days, when the front door of the boarding house swung open and Christine and Kathleen appeared with an armful of books the both of them.

"Oh my, our apologies, Gilbert. We didn't know …" said Kathleen in a way that made it difficult to know if she'd truly stumbled upon them by accident or if the interruption had been planned.

"That's no bother, Kathleen. Anne and I were just parting ways. I will see you in an hour, yes Anne?"

"Indeed," said Anne coldly. Gilbert shot a quizzical look in her direction, and resolved to inquire further over dinner when the two were alone again.

"Good afternoon, ladies," said Gilbert.

"Good afternoon," the three young women answered back, and he was off.

In the interest of cutting through the tension, Christine offered this: "Anne, I'd like to introduce you to my friend …"

"Kathleen, yes? Nice to meet you Kathleen. You live across the hall from the guest room? It's nice to put a name to the voice. Good afternoon, ladies," said Anne, plowing between the two of them and in through the front door.


	3. Chapter 3

Anne seemed downcast at dinner. Gilbert couldn't put his finger on why, but it was clear to him that her spirits were low and her mind a million miles away. He carried the conversation almost single-handedly, which was an odd role reversal for the pair.

After dinner, they walked down King Street until they arrived at the public house hosting the evening's trivia game. Anne had only been in a "pub" once before, and not as a patron. The prospect of this new and exciting experience exhilarated her, and all at once she was up to her ears in adrenaline and butterflies.

Gilbert showed her to their table and introduced her to his team: Paul, a prairie boy from Winnipeg, Manitoba; John, a real looker from Ottawa; and Lewis who'd grown up in Toronto and whose father was a professor at the University. The four gentlemen were peers at school and teammates on an intramural rugby team, in addition to being partners in crime when it came to trivia.

"It's very nice to meet you, Anne. Gilbert tells us your wicked smart so we're hoping you'll agree to lend you talents to our team for tonight's game," said Paul.

"Play with you? What fun! I'd be delighted!" returned Anne, already pulling up a chair and sizing out the competition.

"There are five teams tonight but our only real competition is "Les Quizerables," Paul explained.

"What a cheeky name! Which one are they?"

"Over there," he said, pointing. "The group from the Women's College. We've come close but never once have we beaten them."

Anne looked over and, low and behold, there sat Christine, the defacto captain of "Les Quizerables."

"It figures," said Anne, under her breath.

"What?" asked Paul.

"Oh nothing," she said quickly. "What's the name of your team?"

"The Trolly Dodgers." he returned. "Lewis really loves baseball, and he's always late for class because he missed the streetcar. He lives with his parents, you see, and seeing as he's our captain, it just made sense to pay homage and poke fun at him in particular."

Anne had assumed that Gilbert was the captain, not for any particularly good reason except that in Avonlea he was the captain of everything. Not because he wanted to be, per say, but because the other boys saw him as a leader and he was good at sports, although fairly uninterested in them. Anne had no idea what public transit had to do with baseball but she smiled and pressed Paul for the rules of the game.

The emcee kicked things off with a few jokes and then it was off to the races. Anne held back for the first few questions, getting a sense of the flow of the questions and the other teams. John got one for their team, Christine another for her's, and a gentleman two tables over the third. Gilbert leaned into Anne and whispered in her ear.

"You knew that one, and the one before it. Come on, Anne, the team needs you," he said, smiling. Overhearing Christine get another question correct, Anne's eyes lit up like two flames burning in the dark night - it was go time!

"What famous composer performed his epic piece 'Moonlight Sonata' for the first time in 1802?"

Anne rang the bell.

"Ludwig van Beethovan," she exclaimed, a little louder than was necessary.

"Correct."

"Alright, Anne, way to go," said John.

"In 1851, Herman Melville penned this novel, featuring Captain Ahab?"

Anne rang the bell again.

"'Moby-Dick'."

"Correct," confirmed the emcee. Everyone on The Trolly Dodgers clapped.

"We were introduced to Scrooge in this man's 1843 novella, A Christmas Carol."

Christine rang the bell.

"Charles Dickens," she said calmly.

"Correct. One point for "Les Quizerables"."

"Blast, I knew that one," said Anne, pounding her fist on the table. "Alright, no more funny business." She rolled up her sleeves. "Take no prisoners, am I right, gentlemen?"

"Haha, yeah, sure, you got it Anne," chuckled Lewis.

Anne set her eyes on Christine and focused in like a wild animal about to attack its prey.

"In what city was United States President Abraham Lincoln assassinated?" the emcee called out.

"I know this one," Gilbert said and reached for the bell but Anne got there first.

"Washington, D.C." she called.

"Correct." Gilbert tried to mask the slight embarrassment he felt by congratulating her.

"Nicely done, Anne."

The same scene played out again, with Gilbert on the brink of getting a point only to be scooped by Anne.

"I'll go get us some drinks," he said quietly, leaving the table. Anne hardly noticed.

Christine got the next two questions right, and then Anne took back the lead answering correctly five questions in a row.

"In 1879, this man famously tried "10,000 times" to complete his invention of the light bulb," said the emcee.

Gilbert looked up from the bar and over to Anne. They had shared some special moments over the study of electricity back home in Miss Stacey's class and he was keen to catch her eye and share in this fond memory with her. Anne, on the other hand, was so preoccupied with winning that she had no room for sentimentality in that moment.

The fire and fury of Anne's determination only escalated as the game play continued. Christine managed to squeeze in a correct answer or two but generally Anne dominated. She hardly let her teammates contribute, and eventually they all leaned away from the table and into their pints, occasionally glancing over to Gilbert who had decided to take a stool at the bar rather than return to the group.

"Last question. Double or nothing. Teams will have one minute to agree on an answer and write it down," said the emcee, unsure whether any of this mattered as The Trolly Dodgers were so far ahead it was near impossible for anyone to take them at this point in the game.

"Which ancient Greek is considered by many to be the father of western medicine?"

It was an interesting question. Half of the players in the room were physicians-in-training, but it would take a medical student who was also a lover of classics, philosophy, and ancient civilizations to know the correct answer was Hippocrates of Cos.

"Gilbert!" said Anne, turning to her table mates. "Wait, where's Gilbert?"

"He's at the bar, I think," said Paul, neutrally.

"Gilbert!" she shouted, "we need you."

"I'm good. You got this, Anne," he hollered back, setting down his empty pint glass.

She looked back at the team, all of whom were casually observing to see how this little demonstration would play out.

Anne sat motionless for a moment, the reality of her behaviour over the last 30 minutes or so very slowing sinking in. She stood up carefully.

"Gentlemen, it has been a pleasure playing with you but I think it's time for me to turn in. It seems trivia brings out my competitive side. I hope you'll forgive me for ..."

"Forgive you? Anne, we couldn't be more grateful," said Paul. "I don't think I've ever seen the Women's team this fit to be tied. I mean, look at them."

"Good night, gentlemen," she smiled. "I hope to see you all again soon."

She grabbed her purse and headed to the bar. Gilbert put on his hat and the two left without uttering a word. They walked a long way in silence. Nearing the boarding house, Gilbert finally offered:

"What's going on with you tonight, Anne?"

She was quiet for a moment and then she said: "I don't know. I feel all torn up inside and entirely upside down and I don't know why."

Gilbert considered. "It's late, well past curfew. Best you go inside soon or risk trouble with house mother. May I call before church? I'd like to talk more with a good night's sleep behind me."

"Of course," said Anne.

"Good night."

"Good night."

Gilbert nodded and headed down the path. He paused at the gate and considered turning around to say something from the heart, but a small burst of stubbornness and pride stopped him and he carried on his way.

Anne dressed for bed and said her prayers. She turned off the light in her room and tucked herself in under the warm blankets. What had she done? Why was she so awkward at dinner? And why, oh why, had she let herself get so caught up in a silly trivia game? What _was_ going on with her? Just then, a tidal wave of uncertainty about Gilbert and his true feelings for her washed over her. It churned in her stomach and made her feel sick all over. What if she'd imagined their relationship? What if this was all in her head? At that moment, she was struck with an image so strong and so sharp that it pained her like a slap in the face:

Gilbert and Winnifred, arm in arm at the county fair.


	4. Chapter 4

Gilbert knew next morning's conversation would be an important one; the kind of conversation that would permanently shape his and Anne's relationship, for good or for ill. He took the long way back to the dorm after he and Anne parted ways, wandering up and down the city's streets trying to really puzzle things out. Why did Anne have to be so competitive all the time? What was she trying to prove? And why was he so incredibly annoyed with her tonight? Anne really knew how to push Gilbert's buttons, even when she didn't realize she was doing it.

He sat down on a small wooden bench in the middle of Queen's Park and took off his hat, slowly passing it from one hand to the other and back again. After a time, he admitted to himself that, yes, some of what was sticking in his craw was the missed opportunity to dazzle Anne with his vast knowledge and trivia skills. Typically, Gilbert dominated the game, rivalled only by Christine who was a formidable foe to be sure. He realized he'd brought Anne to the pub that night in part because he wanted to show off, and he was frustrated that the opportunity to do so hadn't presented itself. But there was something else. He couldn't put his finger on it but something was off between them.

Gilbert came calling bright and early the next morning ready to sink his teeth into the all-important discussion, even though he had no idea what he was going to say. The house mother at Christine's dorm, Mrs. Allen, turned him away, however, stating emphatically that her charges needed to finish their Sunday morning devotionals before she would release them into the company of suitors, even if those suitors were escorting them to church.

Gilbert anxiously waited for Anne for over an hour. In an effort to calm his nerves, he pulled out the fountain pen he kept in his shirt pocket and tore a blank page from the back of a ladies magazine sitting on the front porch. He put pen to paper, hoping that the exercise of writing down his feelings would help him to process them as it had in the past.

When she finally passed through the front door, Anne was wearing the blue, velvet dress she'd had on so many months ago when she and Gilbert had kissed. She was a vision, and Gilbert's breath caught in his throat.

"I'm happy to see you," they said hurriedly and at the same time.

"There is a lot to talk about, " said Anne.

"Agreed," affirmed Gilbert, pulling out his father's pocket watch. "Unfortunately, we haven't time at the moment. Can we postpone until after church, Miss Shirley-Cuthbert?"

"Of course," said Anne, blushing a little at the formality of Gilbert's address.

Anne opened her lace parasol and swung it over her shoulder. They walked arm-in-arm down University Avenue, not talking. Not in an awkward way, but in a familiar and comforting way. Gilbert led Anne up the stairs and in through the main doors of St. Andrew's Presbyterian Church. She closed her eyes and opened them again, dazzled by her surroundings. St. Andrew's was so much bigger and more magnificent than any church she'd ever seen on the inside. She and Gilbert made their way up the long, wide centre aisle and found a seat on the right hand side in the middle of the pew. While they waited for the service to start, Anne drank in the tragic scenes etched into the church's stained glass windows and marvelled at how the yellow light passing through them made the sanctuary glow.

"Reverend Macdonnell is a renowned orator," Gilbert whispered in Anne's ear. "I think you're going to really appreciate his modern world view."

"I look forward to drinking in the sermon," Anne responded. She was unable to focus on the Reverend, however. All she could think about was Gilbert's right hand resting gingerly on his leg. He was so close; so close in fact that if she were to move her left hand one and three quarter inches her pinky finger would be touching his thumb. She longed to hold his hand, to feel the rush she'd felt that day during dance practise when they'd briefly held hands.

Little did she know, Gilbert was thinking the exact same thing. He considered actually going for it but his ingrained reserve in combination with the fact that the church was extremely warm and his palms were sweating excessively convinced him otherwise. The service was lovely and afterwards the two old friends agreed to take a walk down by the waterfront.

"Gilbert, I am sorry for last night at the trivia …"

"You don't have to be sorry for your performance, Anne," said Gilbert, cutting her off. "You were sensational! You're incredible mind can be so richly explosive at times; I never know when you'll strike a match to it, or why, but I'm always in awe of the results!"

"Thank you," she said, "but I wasn't finished." Gilbert flashed his surprised and intrigued grin in her direction, his eyes sparkling.

"I am sorry for last night at the trivia game. Not my behaviour - it brought me much joy to wipe the floor with those U of T brainacks - but for my motivation." She took a moment to find her next words. "I was putting on airs for Christine ... and trying prove myself to you."

"Prove yourself?" he asked. Anne took a deep breath to summon the courage for what she was about to say.

"It took me a long time to believe that I was worthy of love. First, the love of a family, Matthew and Marilla's love, and that of my birth parents. And now, the love of a …" She stopped.

"A man," said Gilbert.

"Yes," she said, stammering a little. "A man. The thing is, I can't get the picture of you and Winnifred arm-in-arm at the county fair out of my head. I had only come to know my heart that morning, Gilbert, and had just started to think that the connection between us - the gravitational pull I'd felt since the first moment I met you - was real. I had started to think that maybe you had feelings for me too, and that maybe I was worthy of your affection, but when I saw … when I saw you and … it was … crushing."

"Anne, I'm so sorry ... " Gilbert started, trailing off. He had felt a pang of guilt every time he thought of Winnifred but he hadn't really understood how much his relationship with Winnifred had hurt Anne. He was angry with himself for all of the stalling and indecision, especially when Bash (and Mary too for that matter) had seen the truth and spelled it out for him so expressly.

Seeing his expression, Anne quickly added: "I don't blame you, Gilbert, but I understand now that a seed was planted that day. A seed of doubt. Somewhere, buried deep inside me, lives the belief that someone better will come along and you'll choose her over me. When I saw you and Christine together at the train station, it triggered something in me that I'm not proud of and which has only grown over the last two days. Not to mention Kathleen's inconsiderate …"

"Not Kathleen! What did she say?"

"It doesn't matter. All of this to say that I imagined our reunion a thousand times in my head and never once did I envision being plagued by insecurity. Nor did I think you and I were going to fall victim to old patterns."

"We do have a way of not saying the things we're actually thinking and feeling," Gilbert said. Anne nodded. "I imagined our reunion a thousand times myself," he added.

"You did?"

"I have been cursing the stars that our stories didn't align and intersect until so very late. I have been thinking about all of the wonderful times we could have spent together in Avonlea or elsewhere had I gotten to the bottom of all of this sooner."

"Gotten to the bottom of what?"

"Here," he said, pulling the note he scribbled earlier on the porch from his pants pocket. "Read this."

_Dear Anne,_

_Please accept this abridged version of the note I left for you on your dresser during harvest. If I remember correctly, some 'mysterious force' prevented you from reading it at the time. _

'_You are the fond object of my affection and my desire. You and you alone are the keeper of the key to my heart. I am not engaged, nor will I be unless it is to you, Anne. My Anne with an E. It has always been and will always be you.'_

_These words are as true now as they were then. I love you._

_Gilbert_

_P.S. May I borrow your pen? This one is entirely inadequate and I have a lifetime of love letters to write to you, my darling. _

Anne finished reading the note and looked up at Gilbert.

"I think I was trying to cram a lifetime of romance into one weekend and as soon as something didn't go as planned I was gone for," said Gilbert, a little sheepishly.

"It's a beautiful note, Gilbert. I will treasure it always," Anne said sincerely.

"Always?" Gilbert asked.

"Always." She smiled. "So what was it exactly that didn't go as planned?"

"You're going to laugh."

"Try me."


	5. Chapter 5

The news hit Anne like a ton of bricks: Mr. Lynde was dead. Marilla's letter had delivered the sad report with much care and sensitivity, but that was the truth of it: he was dead. On Wednesday, Thomas Lynde was alive and on Thursday he was not. A brain aneurysm had taken him in the middle of the afternoon, just like that. There one minute, and the next gone. Dead. Vanished.

Anne called Diana into her room and shared the sorrowful news. The two friends cried together for a while, not talking. There hadn't fully recovered from Mary's death and here was another neighbour gone from their lives forever. After some time, Diana took a deep breath, pulling herself out of the trance of tears.

"Did you know Mr. Lynde well, Anne?" she asked.

Thinking a moment, Anne responded, "no, not exactly. But it's remarkable the way that community binds people together, Diana. Mr. Lynde and I lived in Avonlea. We both had farms. We attended the same church. We delighted in the same stories. We were … connected. Do you remember when he played the lobster in the pantomime?"

"Oh, that's right! He was hilarious. I had a terrible time keeping from laughing during his scenes," Diana recalled, smiling. She reached for a handkerchief and blew her nose.

"I think the thing about him that sticks with me most is the way he looked at Rachel, you know? They loved one another so much you could almost feel it when you were around them. Always stealing glances and kisses when no one was looking." Anne smiled.

"I think they knew people were looking!" Diane countered.

"Ha ha, you're probably right," laughed Anne. "They were a team until the very end. That's what I want," Anne sighed, her thoughts turning to Gilbert as they so often did.

"Speaking of Gilbert," Diana said quietly. Anne's eyes burst open and darted towards the door to their room which was wide open.

"Diana!" she said curtly, under her breath. Diana rose from her bed and shut the door. She returned, sitting down again beside her best friend and taking Anne's hands in hers.

"Anne, may I speak frankly with you?"

"Of course," said Anne hesitantly, knowing full well what was coming.

"I am so happy for you and Gilbert, and I am honoured to have been let inside your confidence on this most important matter of the heart," stated Diana matter-of-factly. "But it's time."

"Time ... for what?" said Anne, already knowing exactly what Diana meant.

"It's time to tell Ruby, and the others."

"I know!" said Anne, exacerbated. "It's just, I don't know."

"You've never been at at loss of words, Anne Shirley-Cuthbert. You do know! Spill it!"

"Okay, well, there is the obvious issue of Ruby's 15-year infatuation with Gil -"

"She's moved on, Anne. She and Moody are smitten with one another. Rumour has it she's considering leaving school at the end of the year to learn how to tend house with her mother. You know she's always wanted to be a wife."

"I know. But the heart remembers, Diana."

"Enough. What is it really, Anne?"

Anne inhaled, summoning the courage to speak the truth. "Right now, this … relationship … is something private, something that Gilbert and I share. It's ours, and ours alone."

"And mine, because I've known from the beginning. And Bash's because Gilbert told -"

"Diana! You know what I mean. Our resplendent romance is shared between us and our most bosom friends. What if telling other people changes it somehow? I know the girls will be gobsmacked. They've always held Gilbert in the highest regard, and me in the lowest. He's their King! And I'm their ...Court Jester."

"That's not true!" asserted Diana.

"And the boys! The boys will poke endless fun at me and, what's worse, at Gilbert. I've been teased my whole life, Diana, I can handle it. But Gilbert's never been touched by slander and gossip. He'll be devastated, torn apart." Anne paused, reflecting. "Besides, it feels wrong to tell Ruby before Gilbert and I have had the opportunity to speak with Matthew and Marilla. We were planning to tell them together, in person at Christmas."

Diana rose from the bed. "Anne, with all due respect, you are being ridiculous. Ruby is your friend. Josie and the girls are your friends. They will be overjoyed to hear of your happiness. I am sure of it! And Gilbert's a big boy, he can handle a little teasing."

Anne opened her mouth to counter when Diana bolted for the door. "Ruby!" she called. "Ruby, come here please!"

"I'm busy!" Ruby called back from her room.

"It's important," said Diana firmly. "Come and see Anne and I right away please."

"It's always important with you two. Tillie is reading our horoscopes! Mine says that a great surprise is ahead. What does that mean do you think?" Ruby called.

Diana hesitated. "I don't know. Just come here!"

"Argggg, fine," said Ruby, putting her slippers on. "This better be good." She walked down the hall and into Diana and Anne's room, flopping on Anne's bed in her nightgown, her hair in ties.

"If you two activists are planning another demonstration, I am not interested. I don't disagree that the women professors here at the College should be paid the same as the male professors but I don't think that's my problem and I don't see why I should have to be the one to fix it."

"We're not planning any demonstrations," said Diana. "Well, actually, we are, but that's not why I called you. Anne has something she wants to tell you."

Anne glared at Diana. How could her very best friend in the whole world betray her like this?

"Ruby?" Anne started.

"Yes, Anne?"

"Um ... "

"What is it, Anne? You have the most peculiar look on your face." Ruby giggled.

"Things with you and Moody, are they going well?"

"Moody is a dream. We're headed to the park tomorrow and he's packing a picnic. Isn't that romantic?" Ruby swooned, kicking her slippers in the air and across the room.

"Very romantic," said Anne, warmly. Hesitantly she added, "so, as far as you're concerned, Gilbert Blythe is fair game?"

"What?" said Ruby, sharply, sitting up.

"I just mean -"

"Fair game? Why do you ask? What's going on, Anne?" Ruby's voice had an air of something Diana hadn't anticipated. Anger maybe, or hostility. Jealously, perhaps?

"Nothing! Nothing's going on … "

"Anne with an E, you tell me the truth! Are you in love with Gilbert Blythe?"

Anne nodded, slowly.

Ruby's eyes narrowed with an intensely neither of her friends had ever seen on her before.

"Is Gilbert Blythe in love with you?"

Anne froze, unable to move. It was Diana who answered Ruby's question:

"Yes, Ruby. Gilbert and Anne are courting. It's all very new so please don't tell anyone."

No one moved for a minute. Everything was very still.

"Ruby, it's your turn to read mine!" called Tillie from the other room.

Ruby collected herself and stood up from the bed. She found her slippers, put them back on, and calmly walked out of the room and down the hall. She quietly passed into her room and closed the door behind her.

"That wasn't so bad?" said Anne, unsure of exactly how bad it was or was not.

Little did the girls know that Ruby would freeze Anne out for what felt like an eternity, speaking no more than a handful of words to her for the rest of the school year and beyond.


	6. Chapter 6

Dear Anne,

I am writing to you from University College Library, and I am somewhat embarrassed to admit that it's 1:00 am in the morning. That's right, another late night cramming. A buddy of mine asked me recently why I do it? "You're smart enough, Gil, ease up already!" he said. I wasn't sure how to answer his question in that moment, nor have I been able to stop thinking about it since.

For your reading pleasure, here's what I've been able to put together so far:

I am so hungry for knowledge, Anne. Each and every day I am flabbergasted as how much I don't know, and alarmed by how limited my time at the University of Toronto is. Four years to get my medical degree, more if I decide to do graduate research, but it'll never be enough. There are so many incredible books to read and so many fascinating people to talk to, not to mention all of the amazing discoveries to, well, discover. Four years will never be enough time to know everything, but I've got to try.

I think my academic relentlessness may also have something to do with you, Anne. I know what you're thinking and, no, this isn't my old competitiveness rearing its ugly head. (We're past that now, yes?) I think it has more to do with knowing my heart and feeling comfortable in the vision I have of our future together. I'm not like the other guys in the dorm, scrambling to the rugby pitch after class to show off or worrying about what to wear to the ice cream social at Trinity to get noticed by the object of their affection. I've already been noticed by someone, and I've taken notice, so there is no need to waste any time on those games.

More than any of this, though, I think it's about family. When my father and I went out West, he challenged me to suck the marrow out of life and not waste a moment of it. "Carpe Diem" was our motto on that trip and you should have heard us hollering it from the highest peaks for all of the world to hear! I want to do him proud, Anne, and my mother. And Mary of course. I feel called to do something for other families like mine. The calling is so loud and so palpable in fact that I sometimes wonder if God-himself has authored it in me? If the calling of the Lord is not a motivator, I don't know what is.

I think of you often, my Anne, and wonder which of your many callings you're answering today. I'm counting down the days until we meet again. The plan we carved out for our grand reunion in still stands, yes?

All my love,  
Gilbert

P.S. Absolutely no one saw you fall flat on your face when you were running to catch your train, not even me. xo

-

Dear Gilbert,

I did it! I got the part! I am playing Ophelia in the Queen's production of _Hamlet_. I could not be more excited to grace the stage again. I was certain that Eleanor was going to get it. You should see her lovely raven hair and sparkly auburn eyes - she simply exudes Ophelia - but the director said I was more "invested in the text" that the other girls and that the choice was an easy one. Can you believe that? You will recall that only once before have I had the opportunity to channel my inner thespian and in that instance I played a young boy at odds with an evil lobster so not exactly Shakespeare.

Speaking of Lobsters, Sebastian will have no doubt told you of Rachel's sad news. Marilla tells me that Rachel is muscling through, pretending as though she's not devastated and throwing herself into church and her volunteer commitments. Marilla suspects Rachel is in for a terrible fall, likely more of a crash and burn, and is preparing to be with her when it comes. That's friendship, the very definition.

I hope and pray and Diana's falls are few and far between. She is fretting terribly about her upcoming piano examinations. Just yesterday, she burst into tears when she couldn't find the hair ribbon she wanted to wear to her last practice session. Gilbert, I have to tell you something. I've been putting it off for over a week now but I simply must out with it. In a fit of resolve and with no romantic prospects of her own to distract her, Diana forced me to tell Ruby of our arrangement. Sorry, no, not arrangement. I mean relationship, or … regardless of what we're calling it, Diana betrayed me and now Ruby knows. I am so sorry as I know we agreed to only tell Diana and Bash until we had an audience with Matthew and Marilla. What's worse, Ruby's not talking to me for reasons that I am sure are perfectly obvious to you. What a disaster. Classic Anne, making a mess of absolutely everything and alienating everyone in her wake.

Thank you for your letter. Your singleness of purpose and unwavering dedication to your calling are an inspiration to me. You are going to change the world, Gilbert, I just know it. Promise me that you won't work too hard, though. Toronto is beautiful and busy and you'll miss out on all the fun of college life if you study too hard. Give me your word you'll venture out with those trivia friends of yours again soon?

The plan still stands, yes. Only 21 days, my love.

Romantically yours,

Anne

P.S. You mention in your letter that you have a vision for our future. Please, do tell.


	7. Chapter 7

Anne's train rolled into Bright River station in the early afternoon. It was a dazzling December day and as soon as she stepped off the platform the sun caught in her eyes. All around her the snow was sparkling, almost as though it was sprinkled with fairy dust. Momentarily blinded, she rubbed her eyes and regained focus.

Anne looked down the platform for familiar faces and there they were: Matthew and Marilla, dressed in their Sunday best and grinning from ear to ear.

"Anne!" hollered Marilla. "Anne!" Marilla took off running in her direction and for a moment Anne thought she might be tackled to the ground.

"Marilla! Oh, I've missed you so!" returned Anne, wrapping her arms around Marilla's neck and holding her in a tight embrace. They swayed back and forth a moment before pulling away so Anne could greet Matthew.

Leaping into his arms, she gushed: "My beloved Matthew! It is so good to be home."

"I've missed you," Matthew said resolutely, with none of his usual reserve and tentativeness. "So very much."

"Alright, Matthew, you don't want to squeeze the life out of her. Give her room to breath!" snapped Marilla.

Anne smiled at the familiarity of their banter. Had she imagined this scene in advance and written it down, she would have gotten it just right. What a blessing it was to know people so well you could practically write them into existence. Anne sighed.

"Shall we go? I'm anxious to see Green Gables. How the Snow Queen must have suffered while I was away. She does so love attention, you see," said Anne, smiling coyly. "And Pride! Oh, and Belle! And Butterscotch!"

Matthew picked up Anne's bags while she and Marilla strode arm and arm to the carriage. On the ride home, Anne remarked on the scenery as though it had been 30 years since she'd last laid eyes on these views, as opposed to the three months she'd been away at school.

"Seeing the Lake of Shinning Waters and the White Way of Delight again are like seeing into my very soul; it's as though I've been living behind a veil and only now that we're reunited is the veil lifted. Regardless of the fact that they are frozen and barren, of course."

Matthew and Marilla smiled. It was good, so very good, to have Anne home.

That afternoon was full of tea and preserves and oh-so-many stories. Marilla's accounts of her first few meetings with the town council were riveting, and Anne was delighted to hear tell of everyday life with Bash, Delphine, and family next door. Equally, Anne had a lot to say about her first semester at College; professors she loved, professors she loathed, her involvement with the newspaper, and the one editor there who wouldn't let her get away with anything.

"He said my opinion piece about pay equity was unsupported. Unsupported! I mean, can you imagine? The audacity!"

"So what happened?" asked Marilla.

"Oh, well, I buried myself in the library for four straight days until I found all of the research I needed to back up my arguments and I guess the article was better for it."

"You guess?"

Anne smiled.

Gilbert came in on the evening train, the same coach that had delivered him to Avonlea the evening after his Queen's entrance examination in Charlottetown but today it was running on time. When Bash arrived ten or so minutes after the train pulled away, Gilbert couldn't have been happier to see him.

"Bash!" called Gilbert.

"Brother," replied Bath. They hugged with strength and resolve.

"It's so good to see you," they said at the same time. Smiling, they headed for the carriage.

"So I assume I am to take you straight to the Cutherbert's?" asked Bash with a sparkle in his eyes that said 'I win' without actually saying it.

Blushing a little, Gilbert responded: "haha, no, thanks though. Anne and I are planning to meet up tomorrow morning. Tonight, I'm all yours!"

"Wonderful!" said Bash. "My mum's made her famous stew, and Dellie will be tickled pick to see ya."

"And Elijah?" asked Gilbert.

"Elijah has been a real blessing to me these last months, Gilbert. Honestly, I don't know how I would have managed without him."

"That's great."

"Don't get me wrong, he seems right fearful to see ya. I thought he was going to toss his cookies when I told him I was off to da train station to pick ya up," added Bash, laughing.

The two friends joked and laughed all the way home, falling easily into old rhythms. Bash shared a particularly funny story about Miss Stacey taking his mother - an island woman accustomed to Caribbean temperatures - ice fishing on the Atlantic that had Gilbert doubled over.

Recovering, he commented: "I've noticed a lot of your letters feature Miss Stacey, Bash. I'm glad you're making new friends."

"Me too," said Bash, moving the conversation along to other subjects.

That evening was full of food, stories, and reminiscing, and both men went to bed with their bellies and hearts full. It was a good day.

Anne woke up at the crack of dawn, hours before she and Gilbert were supposed to meet. She paced the floor of her room anxiously. What would it be like to see Gilbert again? To kiss him again? Her trip to Toronto hadn't afforded a repeat performance and she was so very keen to feel his lips on hers. She allowed herself to imagine this a moment, brushing her index finger against her bottom lip dreamily. Suddenly, startled, she let herself spiral. Who's to say Gilbert wanted to kiss her? What's to say he wasn't planning to break it off? The whole thing was too good to be true, that she knew for certain. But in his letters he seemed so … certain?

Gilbert managed a hair more sleep but he, too, was up much earlier than was necessary. When Bash found him, he'd cut every vegetable and mashed every potato in the house. Dodging a repeat performance of 'I win,' Gilbert snuck of the kitchen and into the barn to relieve his housemates of some of their morning chores. He was milking one of their cows when it occurred to him that he didn't really have a plan. Yes, he and Anne had made arrangements to meet on the path to the school in the very spot they'd first met more than five year early, but what was he going to do exactly when he got there? What was he going to say? He was desperate to hold her, to kiss her, but perhaps that wasn't appropriate seeing as they were courting now? They were courting, weren't they?

Gilbert arrived first. It was a cold Monday morning and he hadn't remembered to wear his gloves. He cupped his hands and drew them to his mouth, blowing warm air into them and quickly stuffing them in the pockets of his red and black checkered pea coat. He heard something and looked up: it was the tweak of a branch breaking. In the distance, he could see Anne approaching down the narrow path. She looked so different, so mature. Her red hair was pinned up, like a lady would do, and she wore a floor length skirt. In her hands she held a bouquet of winter berries and pine branches. She stopped a foot away from where Gilbert was standing.

"Hi," he said in a whisper.

"Hello," said Anne.


	8. Chapter 8

"These are for you," said Anne abruptly. She awkwardly pushed the bouquet in Gilbert's face.

"Oh," Gilbert said, caught off guard. "Thank you," he added sincerely. The dimples in his face popped when he smiled like they sometimes did and Anne smiled back back at him, relaxing a little (but only a little). He reached for the bundle of twigs and greens, his fingers grazing hers, or at least they would have had she not been wearing gloves.

"Should we walk?" Gilbert asked pleasantly, offering his arm.

"Indeed," answered Anne, taking it. They walked quietly a ways through the woods, both beside themselves that this moment had finally come.

"Thank you for rescuing me," said Anne eventually.

"What?" asked Gilbert.

"That day, in the woods. Billy Andrews and his thugs were picking on me and you rescued me."

"Anne, if I've learned anything these last five years, it's that you don't need rescuing. But I am happy to have been of service that day, even if in being so I somehow managed to get on your bad side."

"It wasn't you, Gilbert, it was Josie and the other girls. They were horrible to me at first, every one but Diana of course. They threatened me; told me that if I even looked in your direction I was dead to them."

"That's a bit dramatic, don't you think?"

"Yes, and no, I don't know. Ruby's still upset with me. It's the silent treatment for the most part. I mean, she's civil when the occasion calls for it, but otherwise she's ice cold. It's like I don't even exist. I was certain she was going to tell the others but from what I can tell they're still in the dark."

Without realizing it, Anne and Gilbert had made their way through the forest and to the new school house. They stopped at the foot of the stairs, surveying the scene. Neither had seen the school finished as construction had extended into the fall, and both were in awe of the grand institution.

"Education. What a gift, what a blessing," said Anne.

"Agreed," said Gilbert.

They decided to pop their heads inside, curious as to how the new school would resemble the old one. In just a few glances, they were able to determine that it was a touch bigger and the stove was no longer in the middle of the room, but otherwise it was mostly the same. Instinctively, Gilbert removed his cap and Anne took off her gloves and scarf. They took their seats, almost as if in a trance. Gilbert, third row from the front, right hand side. Anne, second row, just left of centre. Gilbert ran his hands up and down the wood grain of the new desk, carefully examining it with the palm of his hand. Anne looked out the window at the rolling fields and forests, gingerly resting her chin on her hand and sighing. Eventually, Gilbert looked up and over to where Anne sat, as he had done so many times. It was still morning and the sun shone brightly, catching her hair and setting it a blaze.

"Carrots," Gilbert whispered under his breath, marveling at the picture before him.

"What did you say?" Anne asked sharply, turning her head towards him.

Gilbert inhaled deeply, rose from his spot, and purposely walked over to where Anne sat. "I can't contain myself any longer. Anne Shirley-Cuthbert, you are the most beautiful creature I have ever beheld. May I kiss you?"

"You may," said Anne, grinning from ear to ear.

He helped her to her feet. Again he raised his right hand, this time stroking Anne's hair with his pointer finger. Slowly, so very slowly, they leaned in to one another until they were only millimeters apart. They waited there, trapped in one another's eyes for one seemingly infinite moment before their lips found each other. Lightly and tenderly, they pressed together. Unlike the last time they kissed, they were in no rush. Here, they were alone. No one was waiting for them. There would be no interruptions. They could take their time, and they did. Proper or not, everything about this moment was right and the two lovers enjoyed every second.

After a time, they decided they ought to be getting to Green Gables. Marilla was fixing lunch and Anne had promised the family some big news. They were two thirds of the way back when Anne stopped, suddenly:

"Gilbert, can I ask you something?"

"Of course! Ask away!"

"Am I a good kisser?" asked Anne. Gilbert laughed.

"I don't see what's so funny about asking," she said defensively.

"Oh, don't be embarrassed. I wonder the same thing, I just don't have the gall to speak my insecurities aloud, that's all. You're really something, Anne."

"You didn't answer my question."

"I'll tell you if you tell me."

"Deal."

"My darling, Anne. I think of you by day, and dream of you by night, but never in my wildest dreams could I have imagined sharing such a divine and inspired intimacy with you. I don't have a lot of experience, but I fancy you may be the greatest kisser in all of the world. How's that?" he asked, cheekily.

"Acceptable," she said, blushing.

"What about me?"

Consider a moment: "Acceptable," she stated as though she was grading an algebra test.

"Anne! You're insufferable!"

"Tag, you're it!" Anne hollered, fwaping Gilbert in the belly and taking off through the fields.

"Oh, just you wait, I'll get you!" he yelled in return, chasing after her. They ran and played all the way to the front door of Green Gables where they stopped dead in their tracks. Flushed and out of breath, they stood side by side, arms akimbo.

"We didn't plan this part," said Gilbert.

"No, we did not," said Anne.

"We should have."

"Yes. Indeed." Anne took Gilbert's hand in hers and turned to look him in the eye. "Onward?"

"Onward!"

Anne pushed through the door, dragging Gilbert behind her. "Marilla, I'm home. Gilbert's come for lunch. Would it be alright if we set another place at the table for him?"


	9. Chapter 9

"Gilbert!" exclaimed Marilla, coming around the corner and wiping her hands on her apron. "What a lovely surprise. You are very welcome to join us. Please, do come sit down," she said, taking his coat and guiding him to a seat at the the kitchen table.

Anne quickly hung up her coat and began buzzing around the kitchen. She was in such a frenzy she hardly noticed the centre piece that Marilla had handmade earlier that morning with pine cones from the yard and bits of ribbon left over from the sewing. Marilla's subtle attempts to surprise delight Anne were always met with much appreciation, but there was nothing from Anne today on that subject for she was too distracted.

"Anne tells us you're at the University of Toronto," said Marilla, sitting at the table with Gilbert.

"Yes, that's correct," he returned.

"And how are you enjoying it?"

"Well, it's a lot of work, more than I imagined, but I'm really loving it. The distance is hard of course but …" he trailed off, realizing where he was headed with this line of thinking. Anne froze.

"Of course," empathized Marilla. "I imagine leaving home must be very difficult, especially when you're so far away from your family."

"Yes, exactly," said Gilbert, relieved not to have accidentally let the cat out of the bag. At that moment, Matthew came in the backdoor.

"Hello Anne, Gilbert," he said smiling.

"Gilbert will be joining us for lunch," said Marilla.

"Very good," mumbled Matthew. He quickly washed his hands and joined Marilla and Gilbert at the table.

With her back turned to the group, Anne took a long, deep breath to summon her courage and then whirled around and took her seat between Matthew on the end and Gilbert to her right. Gilbert and Marilla chatted idly about the weather in Toronto, but Anne couldn't hear a word of it for the loud ringing in her ears.

"Please, help yourselves," said Marilla, and everyone dug into lunch, everyone except Anne. It was a simple spread of bread, cheese, and jam preserves - some of Anne's favourite delights - but she couldn't bring herself to eat. She was too nervous. After a few minutes, Marilla had had enough.

"Anne, you haven't touched your lunch. Eat!" she said pointedly. Anne sat motionless, staring at her food.

"Is everything alright, Anne?" asked Matthew, concerned.

"I love Gilbert," Anne blurted out awkwardly. A long pause followed.

"Um … yes … we, we already knew that," said Mathew, gently.

"Right, of course. I suppose, well, what I meant to say was ... You remember the day you found my mother's book about flowers, well, you see, that same day I ran into … um, it doesn't matter who I ran into … but the point is, I came into some information … important information about …

Gilbert reached for Anne's hand and took it in his own, stopping her in her tracks.

"Mr. & Miss Cuthbert, I love Anne. We're in love."

"We're in love," repeated Anne, dreamily. "We haven't said that out loud yet, not to each other anyway. We're in love." She grinned at him, and he back at her.

Matthew and Marilla looked at one another. It was one of those bitter sweet moments that every parent feels to their very core and remembers forever. A rare combination of joy and despair coursed through their veins but it was, of course, joy for the win.

"Oh Anne, Gilbert, we're very happy for you," said Marilla with seriousness and sincerity, the glimmer of a tear in her eye.

"So very happy," added Matthew, equally sincere.

A round of hugs and handshakes were given, and the group ate merrily and drank tea for the remainder of the afternoon. Today, the farm could wait. Today, they were otherwise engaged in building a family.

"Gilbert, your parents would be very happy to hear this news, I know they would," commented Marilla at one point during the conversation.

"Thank you, Miss Cuthbert, I believe they would."

Gilbert always remembered that afternoon as one of the happiest of his life. It wasn't like it had been with Winni's parents. When he was with them, he always felt on edge and unsure, desperate to appear mature and respectable and even more desperate to silence the voices in his head still unconvinced of his true feelings for Winni. Here, at Green Gables, everything was so very easy. These were not just his future in-laws but lifelong friends and neighbours. People he'd celebrated with in good times, and counted on in the bad. They were like family. And he couldn't have been more certain of his love for Anne. He almost laughed at how long it'd taken him to sort it all out, when it was so perfectly obvious to him now that she was the one all along. It was Gilbert who pinched himself that day.

As afternoon turned to evening, Gilbert and Anne departed Green Gables for the Blythe farm where Mrs. Lecroix was preparing a Caribbean feast to mark Gilbert's return. Things were quiet around Green Gables after they left. Not sorrowful so much as pensive. Matthew and Marilla both decided to turn in early, a simple "good night" exchanged between them.

That night was a long and difficult one for Marilla. She wept silently into her pillow, grieving the life and love she'd wanted so desperately to share with John Blythe, Gilbert's father. Family obligation and pride had prevented her from following her heart, and she'd regretted it every day of her life since. She was so relieved to see Anne's path had taken a different course than her own, but it brought the pain of her own tragical romance bubbling to the surface again. Hugging her stomach, she rolled back and forth as if trapped in a bad dream.

"Mar, come with me! You must! There is a big beautiful world out there just waiting for us!"

"I can't, John. You know that."

"I don't, Mar. I know that your mother has been through a lot but it's not your responsibility to fix what's broken. You can't make her whole again, and trying to is tearing you apart."

"That's not fair, John. What about Matthew, and Green Gables. I can't sacrifice them on a whim."

"A whim? I thought I meant more than that to you, Marilla. What about the life we planned together?"

"A schoolyard romance. We're still children, John. I'm only 17. What can I really know about love anyway?"

"I know what's in my heart, Mar, and so do you. This is more than a schoolyard romance. I'm not a child and I'm not playing. Please, come with me. I've waited for you for two years and nothing about your situation has changed. Now is the time to take life by the reigns. Come with me, I beg of you."

"No."

"No?"

"No. You'll be back, and by then mother's … situation will be under control and Matthew will be older and …"

"No. I'm not coming back, Mar. You will carry the weight of this family on your shoulders until the day you die. I can't sit on the sidelines and watch you throw your life away."

"That's not true. You take that back, John Blythe."

"I won't. It's the truth. I'm so sorry Marilla."

"Go then. See if I care."

"Marilla, please."

"Go."


	10. Chapter 10

[Dear readers, I sincerely apologize for the delay in writing and posting this chapter. Shortly after I wrote Chapter 9, my husband was diagnosed with a rare form of late stage cancer. Between that, and the pandemic which has closed the professional ballet school that I run and the academic school that my daughters attend, it's all been a bit much. I am hoping that revisiting these characters that I know and love so dearly will act as a form of self-care, which I'm told is very important when taking care of a loved one full-time. Thank you for your patience and readership. xo Kate ]

Ugh. Just, ugh.

Anne had enjoyed every moment of winter break thus far. Sure she'd gotten by in Charlottetown, but she could really feel the air in her lungs now that she, Marilla, and Matthew were together again. At Green Gables, Anne felt grounded and connected to the sights and sounds around her in a way that was never possible at the boarding house. If she were being honest with herself, it was also nice to have a little break from Diana. They would be bosom friends until the day they died but a little time apart was a nice reprieve from full-time cohabitation. And of course, there was Gilbert: in the flesh. The two had spent some of every day together, taking walks and sharing meals. All of the anxiety and trepidation they'd encountered in Toronto had melted away. They talked and debated and laughed the hours away. It was different now; they were on the same side. In short, it was perfect.

But not today. Today would be the opposite of perfect. Today would be agony. Ugh.

As Anne dressed for church, she could feel the tension building in her neck and shoulders. Why should she be so afraid to see Ruby and the other girls church? She'd attended hundreds of times with the same cast of characters lining the pews, but she knew today would be different for it had been decided that Gilbert would attend with the Cuthberts. It started with a neighbourly invitation from Marilla rooted in friendship and convenience, and after considerable conversion she and Gilbert had decided that he would 'officially' attend with the family. There was no point in putting things off any longer. People were going to find out about their courtship eventually. Tt was time to rip off the bandage! Diana already knew of course, and she'd told Ruby, but as far as Anne could tell Ruby hadn't said a thing to anyone else in their group. But then again, Ruby hadn't said a word to Anne in weeks and weeks so it's hard to know for sure. Anne just knew that trouble awaited her at today's service, she could feel it in her bones. "Oh mine prophetic soul!" she quoted aloud. Rehearsals for _Hamlet_ had not yet begun but Anne was already entirely immersed in the play. She could quote it in almost every situation, which she did to the annoyance of pretty much everyone after the novelty wore off.

Gilbert made his way over to Green Gables on foot. From there, the slightly-short-of-merry band rode in the Cuthbert's carriage across town, as Matthew's leg had been bothering him a while and he didn't feel up to the walk. Luckily, Anne thought, they arrived a little on the late side and had to scurry in and take their seats immediately upon arrival. As soon as they'd settled in their regular pew, Anne's senses heightened dramatically. She listened with every fiber of her being for what she assumed would be a host of whispers and scanned her peripheral vision for what she assumed would be a tidal wave of shady looks, but there was nothing. She listened and looked and listened and looked still harder but nothing. Gilbert, sensing her rush of adrenaline, subtly squeezed her hand and whispered in her ear:

"Relax. Everything is going to be fine." Anne looked at Gilbert and smiled. What a naive boy he is, she thought.

Unfortunately, Gilbert's small, almost microscopic gesture hadn't gone unnoticed. Minnie May, Diana's younger sister, and spotted it from the other side of the aisle. She happened to be sitting on the floor and was uniquely positioned for spying.

"Diana! Diana!" she whispered at a volume that only a six year old would qualify as a whisper. "Gilbert's holding Anne's hand. Are they in luuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuvvvvvvvvvvveeeeee?" Diana quickly covered Minnie May's mouth but it was too late. Everyone had heard.

At the end of the service, Gilbert stood before anyone and warmly offered his arm to Anne. He had this perfectly annoying quality of not caring what other people thought of him, especially when his character was in alignment with his intentions and actions as they were now. Anne, on the other hand, was angry at just how much she cared. She cared a lot, she couldn't help it. She accepted Gilbert's hand and the two followed Matthew and Marilla down the aisle and out the doors of the church into the sunshiney cool air. When they turned around to survey the scene, they were surprised to see Josie, Ruby, Jane, Tilly, Prissy, and Diana right on their heels. In her most serious and resolute of voices, Anne said loudly:

"Gilbert, would you be so kind as to help Matthew prepare the carriage for our departure?"

"Are you sure, Anne?" Gilbert responded, carefully.

"Yes."

Gilbert nodded his head and took his leave. Anne took a big breath and placed her hands on her hips, ready for what the firing squad had in store for her.

"Is it true?" asked Josie harshly.

"Is what true?" Anne returned.

"Don't play dumb with me, Anne Shirley-Cuthbert. Are you and Gilbert courting?"

"Yes," said Anne with less muster than she'd wanted to use. Josie had this way of knocking the wind out of Anne's lungs in five words or less.

"How could you?" Josie said in a way that suggested to Anne that it wasn't really a question.

"We've been friends for a really long … wait, Josie, I don't see why I have to explain myself to you."

"You don't! But don't you think you ought to explain yourself to Ruby? You know Ruby's had feelings for Gilbert for ever!"

"But she and Moody … I thought …"

"Oh please. Ruby was never serious about Moody. She needed a distraction when it became clear that Gilbert and Winnifred [emphasis on Winnifred] were building a life together. I mean, at least those two made sense. I have no idea what Gilbert sees in-"

"My love life is none of your business, Josie Pie!"

"Your love life?" Ruby said in the smallest of voices, pushing back tears.

"Your LOVE LIFE?" Josie bellowed on her behalf. "God, Anne, you always did put on airs. You're supposed to be Ruby's friend! I have no idea what you did to seduce Gilbert away from Winnifred but I have no doubt he'll see through your theatrics sooner or later and call it off."

"Josie, how dare you say such a thing!" Diana cut in. It was at this point in the conversion that Ruby quietly took her leave. Jane and Tilly followed closely after, running to catch up with their friend and putting their arms around her to comfort her.

Josie could see that her words had had the desired effect. She pretended to hear her mother calling and promptly took her leave as well.

Anne looked like she'd been punched in the stomach.

"I thought she and Moody, I really thought she was over …" she said to Diana and Prissy, but really more to herself.

"I'll talk to them," said Diana running after them. Sensing that Anne needed a moment, Prissy squeezed Anne's hand and headed in the direction of the Andrews' waiting carriage.

Anne was left alone, wondering how things had gotten so out of hand. It was the first day of school all over again.


	11. Chapter 11

[Dear readers, Thank you so much for your kind messages of support. Since I last wrote to you, my husband has faced four rounds of aggressive chemotherapy and major surgery. He's home now recovering and, all things considered, it's going well I guess. So far as this story is concerned, I have so much more to tell you so please stick with me even when there are long gaps between chapter publications. Rest assured, it will be worth the wait! xo Kate]

With the Ruby drama behind her for the time being and very few social invitations as a result of said drama, Anne was free to bask in her time with Matthew and Marilla and lean into her relationship with Gilbert for the rest of the holiday. The couple spent Christmas Eve with Gilbert's family, singing holiday carols at the top of their lungs and dancing (badly) for Delphine's amusement. The highlight of the evening was Anne's impassioned, albeit painful, rendition of "In Excelsis Deo" on the washboard. They spent Christmas morning apart at their respective homesteads, and then that evening the entire Blythe-Lacroix crew made their way to the Cuthbert farm for Christmas dinner with all the trimmings. It was before dinner that Anne and Gilbert stole away for a private moment to exchange gifts as they had several years earlier.

"Merry Christmas Anne," said Gilbert reaching into his large satchel to retrieve Anne's gift.

"Stop right there!" stated Anne abruptly. "I am not getting caught in this trap again. When we were last together on Christmas, I had not been informed that were exchanging gifts and was caught entirely unawares. Not this time, Mr. Blythe, not this time. It is I who will surprise you! Here. Open it!" Anne handed Gilbert what seemed to be a small stack of newspapers tied up with string and adorned with little branches of holly and ivy.

Gilbert, looking confused, untied the knot and opened the first paper on the top of the pile. Curiously, it appeared to be The Avonlea Chronicle, the local weekly he and Anne had edited together during their school days.

"The 'ol Chronicle? The date on this is, what, December 1899? I'm confused, Anne. This paper's only a few days old?"

"Flip to page 6." Gilbert did as he was told and was somewhat taken aback to discover the obituaries section.

"Dear Lord, who died?" he asked with trepidation and sarcasm in his voice.

"Do you remember when Mary … passed away … and we decided to publish a tribute in the Chronicle for Delphine to have and to hold always and forever?"

Gilbert nodded.

"You knew your father very well, Gilbert, so of course you don't need an obituary to remember him. But, your mother, you never speak of her and you seemed so moved when I told you about the Book of Flowers. I wanted something like that for you, a keepsake of sorts, so I used my blossoming journalism skills to unearth a little of your mother's story. The town historical record and some amateaur sleuthing led me to some neighbours and acquaintances with whom I exchanged letters and, in summary, I wrote this piece for the Chronicle. I hope you like it."

Gilbert looked down at the page. There is was in black and white: "The life and Times of Mrs. Elizabeth Blythe by Anne Shirley-Cuthbert."

"I don't know what to say."

"Don't say anything, and don't read it now. Save it for the right time, when you're good and ready."

Gilbert looked at her, uncertain of how to proceed.

"How about this? A few teasers to hold you over until then: you know she was originally from Saskatchewan and that she had brown hair and nut-brown eyes like you. And you know that she and your father met on his first great venture West when a family friend introduced them." Gilbert nodded again. "But did you know that she loved cats? She simply adored them! From a very young age, she cared for as many as she was allowed. At one point she had ten at once. Can you imagine? She loved all animals from what I can tell. I heard a story about her nursing and injured squirrel back to health once, and another about her sleeping in the barn for a week to help a doomed litter of pigs survive."

"I didn't know that. Father didn't speak of her often; I think it was too painful for him"

"It sounds as though she had a harder time connecting with people. Your dad was the fun loving, charismatic one; always the centre of attention."

"That's him alright."

"Eliza was quieter, more reserved. She didn't have family in Avonlea and struggled to make friends; the Avonlea ladies can be quite … difficult ... as you know. But by every account she loved your father very much and he loved her. And everyone I spoke to mentioned how she loved to look up at the stars." She paused. "You're not mad, I hope?"

"No, not at all. I'm just surprised, that's all, and touched that you would go to such trouble for me."

"There's nothing I wouldn't do for you, Gilbert."

"Well, my gift is going to seem absolute rubbish by comparison."

"No it won't! Give it here, I want to see it!"

Gilbert reached his hand into the satchel and pulled out a large rectangular item wrapped in brown paper. Anne grabbed it out of his hands and tore the brown paper to shreds.

"It's a leather-bound portfolio. For your writing. You'll be meeting with editors and publishers in no time and you'll need to look the part."

"Gilbert, it's beautiful. I love it! Thank you so much." He smiled, and looked back down at the newspaper. Anne reached over and took his hand and squeezed it, and together they headed into dinner.

Anne and Gilbert had ten whole days together after Christmas and before they had to head back to their respective schools. Except for that time they got their wires crossed and waited for one another in the cold on opposite sides of town, their time together at home in Avonlea was almost without fault and ripe with the chemistry and fireworks young people in love are known to enjoy.

It was the small things Gilbert did that took Anne's breath away at first. The way his pinky finger tickled hers when they sat next to one another at dinner or how he looked at her from across the room at the ladies auxiliary holiday bazaar. But as their days together drew on, things between them escalated. While Anne and Gilbert were very traditional and conservative in some ways, they were not as rigid as some might have thought when it came to intimacy. Anne figured it must be the trust they'd built over the course of their long friendship combined with the informed and express consent they shared that did it. Gilbert, with his more clinical knowledge of the human body and human sexuality, saw it as something more ingrained and carnal. Regardless, the two couldn't keep their hands off one another!

There was one particularly close call in the barn when they were almost interrupted kissing up in the loft by Matthew in search of a missing pitchfork. And another when Mrs. Lacroix was mere feet from discovering Anne and Gilbert standing in a passionate embrace when an upset Delphine hearkened her back to the kitchen. When it came time to return to school after the new year broke, it was almost a relief as both were 100% committed to not crossing the lines they'd set but at the same time neither were quite sure how to turn down the temperature.

They were fortunate to have the train ride from Bright River to Charlottetown to grieve their parting and a brief stopover allowed Gilbert the pleasure of walking Anne to her boarding house before he headed back to the train station and on to Toronto. There was no kissing under the watchful eye of Mrs. Blackmore but they did have the pleasure of a charged moment standing together at the bottom of the stairs outside the front door before saying goodbye. Both were on cloud nine after a perfect holiday together, convinced that this is how it would always be between them. A dream come true.


	12. Chapter 12

Anne and Gilbert wrote many letters those first few weeks back on campus. Their highly charged holiday together had made their desire for one another even more insatiable, and it was with pen and paper that they expressed their excitement and longing. That month, they wrote and wrote and wrote. Both were gifted essayists and their letters back and forth were touching and funny and honest and all things perfect. However, as January rolled on, the pressures of school quickly stole focus and their letter writing returned to a manageable pace.

Having dominated the first semester, Gilbert expected to master the second in a similar style. Unfortunately, his courses that winter were particularly difficult and after only two weeks of classes it was clear to Gilbert that he had no choice but to surrender some of his recreational pastimes just to keep up with the seminars and labs.

"Trivia night won't be the same without you," said Christine when Gilbert told their group of friends he'd be stepping down from the team in the corridor or Massey Hall one morning.

"Don't sound so smug, Christine," said John. "Even without our star player the Trolley Dodgers are a force to be reckoned with!"

"Sure they are," chuckled Christine. "But, Gilbert, in all seriousness, don't walk away from the only bit of fun of we've got around here. Without some form of diversion, why, you'll work yourself to death."

"Now wait a minute there, Christine," puzzled John, "with Gilbert six feet under the rest of us might actually have a chance at winning the Gold Medal so I'm definitely starting to see the silver lining in all of this."

"Oh poppycock, Johnny boy! You'd have to bury two thirds of your class to be in running for the University's highest honour and even then it'd be a long shot!" quipped Christine. They all laughed.

Lewis chimed in, trying to rescue his friends from Christine's quick wit : "Gilbert, you haven't told us a thing about your holiday. How's Anne?"

For the first time in his life, Gilbert blushed. He couldn't help it. His cheeks went red and hot and there was nothing he could do to stop them. The mere mention of her name aloud brought back the softness of her hair and the feeling of her breath on his neck. He was caught unprepared and utterly speechless.

"That bad?" joked Lewis. All the boys laughed; Chrsinte busied herself with some papers in her briefcase.

"Well", she said matter-of-factly after a moment, "I can't say I won't enjoy wiping the floor with this lot on Sunday nights, but you will be missed Gil. Come along, John, or we'll be late for Biology 127." And with that, she was off. John grabbed his bag and with a wink he was off as well.

"Gilbert, it seems to me that you've returned from Avonlea having … lived … a little and I must say it's about time. Anne is a fine girl; I hope we'll see her again soon. Alright, I'm off too. See you later, lad," said Lewis.

Gilbert, still unable to focus enough to speak, raised his hand to his neck and smiled from cheek to cheek - dimples blaring! He pulled a paper out of his bag and opened his fountain pen.

"Dear Anne ..."

Anne returned to Charlottetown hoping that things would have settled down with her Avonlea chums. She was wrong. The freeze was colder than ever. Her 17-year-old "girlfriends," deciding to act their age in every respect, shut Anne out entirely and tried to influence others to do the same. Diana was immune of course, and she always had Cole and Miss Barry for company, but it was a bit much nevertheless.

Rehearsals for "Hamlet" started in the second week of term and the timing couldn't have been better. Within days, Anne and her cast mates were inseparable. They ate together and studied together and socialized together. They called themselves the Hammies and their motto was "More Than Kin!" They adored one another, bonded for life through the director's vision, the playwright's words, and courage and vulnerability it took for them as actors to get up in front of an audience and truly show themselves. It's quite possible that the rest of the college found them insufferable, but they didn't care. The Hammies had found one another and nothing could stop them!

"Anne, the Strawberry Social's this Sunday. You're coming right?" said Diana one evening as the two were readying themselves for bed.

"This Sunday? I'm terribly sorry Diana but I have rehearsals."

"On a Sunday?"

"Well, it's not a scheduled rehearsal, but Christopher and I decided to get together and run lines and analyse the text a little."

"I feel like I barely see you anymore, Anne. You're always with the Hammies these days. What's so special about them? I mean, it's just a play!"

Anne smiled. "I miss you too, Diana. First things first, it's not just a play; it's one of the greatest plays ever written. Secondly, it's different with my drama friends; it's hard to explain. Do you remember when you and I first met and we knew, just knew, that we would be bosom friends forever?"

"Yes."

"Right from the beginning I was wholly and completely accepted by you, Diana, and vice versa. In time, I was fortunate to befriend the others but in every instance it took work and time and struggle. I had to prove myself to them. I had to demonstrate my worthiness. But with the drama gang, they just understand me.. They have my back. It's like, if one of us rises, we all rise. If one of us falls, we all fall. It's … the magic of live theater I guess. It never felt like that with the old Avonlea gang. Not ever. My hometown friends, present company excluded of course, were acquaintances by circumstance. But me and the Hammies chose one another, or I suppose we were chosen by Mr. Harrison the director. Or maybe it was fate that grabbed our hands and drew us together in this moment? Regardless, I feel like I belong. Does that make sense?"

Diana chose her words carefully. "I am so glad that you've found people who you connect with, Anne. Really, I am. I know things are rough with the Avonlea girls right now, but I think there's more to those relationships than you think."

"Maybe."

"Will you think about it?

"I will."

"And will you come to the Strawberry Social with me pleeeeeeease?"

"Can I bring Christoper and the others?"

"Of course. The more the merrier!"

After classes the next day, the Hammies were scheduled to rehearse Act 3, Scene 1. In the roles of Gertrude and Claudius were upper years Esther Farmer and Timothy Douglas respectively. They managed the first part of the scene masterfully, leaving Anne and Christopher Goodman (second year) a little intimidated and overwhelmed. The second half of the scene was a doozy and their character featured heavily.

"Truthfully, Anne, I was hoping we wouldn't get this far until after you and I had a chance to talk through the speech just the two of us. I feel like the weight of the world is on my shoulders when I even think of tackling "To be or not to be ..."

"Use that! If ever there was a character weighed down by life's demands and expectations, it's the Prince of Denmark after all."

"Thanks Anne," he said smiling. "I'm going to need more of that inspiration on Sunday when we really sink our teeth in."

"About that, I'm sorry Christoper but I've promised my dear friend Diana that I'd attend the Strawberry Social with her on Sunday."

"At the church?"

"Um hum"

"Oh."

"Would you like to come? I know Diana would love to meet you."

Christoper smiled. "I've love to. My, you are a modern woman, Anne."

Not entirely comprehending his meaning, Anne smiled and proceeded to extend the invitation to Esther, Timothy, and a few of the others on the next break. Only an onlooker with razor sharp attention would have caught a momentary flash of disappointment on Christopher's face. A larger than life personality with all the charisma and gravitas of Sir Henry Irving, Christopher brazenly overcompensated by extending the invitation to the entire cast and crew much to Anne's surprise. While not exactly what she was planning, she could see how a mass introduction of worlds might work ... and then again it might not.

She made her way back to her room at the boarding house later that evening exhausted and ready to collapse into bed. She was just about to lay her head down when she noticed an unopened letter on her vanity. She crept over, not wanting to wake Diana, and reached for the envelope. Her delight at receiving yet another correspondence from Gilbert was matched only by her guilt at not having had a chance to write him back since early the previous week. She was so busy trying to keep up her grades and tackle the role of Ophelia that she didn't have as much time to write as she had had during the first semester. She ran her fingers along the envelope's flap, quietly tearing it open:

"Dear Anne …"

It's a strange feeling to have one's heart soar and sink at the same time.


	13. Chapter 13

Anne was in a right bad mood the next morning. Gilbert's letter was full of "fond affection" and his words were so evocative that she had to step away and catch her breath more than once in the reading of it. She was tickled pink at the notion that Gil may be able to pull off a visit over reading week. And, yet, she could sense a weariness in his words that she couldn't quite put her finger on. What's worse, buried at the bottom of the letter in the postscript was the following note:

"P.S. Oh, I almost forgot: I have good news and bad news. The good news is that I am in the running for a coveted internship with Dr. William Osler who is doing the most amazing research at Toronto General Hospital. The bad news is that if I get it I'll be working here for all of spring and most of summer. Your thoughts?"

Of course she wanted him to succeed in his career and if this internship would bring him closer to his dream of being a medical researcher than she was all for it. But to spend the entire summer apart? What could be more tragical! She had already begun to plan every moment of their summer holidays in her head, and now the whole thing was spoiled.

Anne was entirely off her game at Saturday's afternoon's _Hamlet_ rehearsal. So much so, that the director released her early. She funnelled her foul mood into her studies and locked herself into the Connolly Library for almost six hours until her paper on Hardy's _Far From the Madding Crowd _had been written into submission. Early to bed and late to rise, Sunday afternoon was upon Anne before she knew it and with it: the Strawberry Social.

It was sort of an inside joke; Strawberry Socials were commonly held in late summer when the berry crop was ripe for the picking and not in the middle of winter. The AYA, or Association of Young Adults, at the church thought it was such a laugh to host such a social with nary a strawberry to be seen. Anne has missed the particular meeting of AYA when the idea was hatched, and most of the other meetings for that matter, so she really didn't see the comedy in it. What was worse, worlds were about to collide and Anne's stress level was through the roof as a result.

She adored the Hammies, she really did, but they weren't always the most … accepting. They were theatre kids, theatre snobs actually, and they sometimes looked down on "mere mortals." The Avonlea gang wasn't known for being particularly welcoming either, and they were not likely to accept the weird and over-the-top shenanigans the Hammies were certain to pull at the event. In summary, Anne had a headache.

She arrived just as the final streamer was being hung and the band was finishing tuning. Everyone from the AYA was there, standing on the far side of the room. Josie glared at Anne as soon as she walked through the doors and Ruby promptly turned her back. Diana rushed over as best friends do and grabbed Anne's hand, pulling her to the safety of the refreshment table. Most of the old gang was a part of the AYA: Moody, Charlie, Tillie, Jane, and so forth, and a good sized group of pious young people from other cities and towns in the region were also regular attendees, some of whom Anne had met but not many who'd made an impression on her.

The party was picking up when Christoper, Esther, and Timothy walked through the door with a group of about eight or so friends from the _Hamlet _cast and crew. Whether time actually stood still or the band happened to finish their song at that exact moment and everyone in the room happened to stop what they were doing and stare at the newcomers in perfect unison, Anne couldn't be sure. She was sure of one thing: this was very wrong. These people weren't supposed to meet; they were supposed to be kept separate at all costs. It was like there were two Annes out in the world and the universe - or perhaps God seeing that this was all playing out in the church hall - had forbade them from meeting face-to-face and yet here they were. BAM!

Anne was frozen in her spot. When everyone turned their heads from the entrance to where she was standing, she panicked. She grabbed a plate of food and started stuffing every vegetable and finger sandwich she could into her mouth.

Suddenly, Moody jumped down off the platform where he was standing with the band and headed to the doorway with a smile on his face with a jaunty clip.

"You must be Anne's friends from the drama club! My name's Moody; I'm an old school chum of Anne's from Avonlea."

"Nice to meet you, Moody, I'm Christoper, and this is Timothy and Esther." They all shook hands.

"We're glad you've come. Things were a little dull until now; hopefully you can help me liven the place up a little."

"We do so like to liven," said Esther, cheekily.

"Well, Miss Esther, would you be so kind as to dance with me? No better place to liven than on the dance floor."

"It would be my pleasure."

Esther took Moody's arm and they were off. Anne's jaw hit the floor. The rest of the AYA followed Moody's lead, and before long everyone was chatting and a few brave souls joined Moody and Esther on the dance floor. Anne, not sure what to make of any of it, rested her plate on the edge of the table and awkwardly found her way into a seat as Diana approached.

"Anne, the Hammies are delightful," said Diana.

"It appears the feeling is mutual," remarked Anne, still in shock.

"What can you tell me about your friend Timothy? He's quite handsome, I dare say. Fair game?"

"He's all yours, Diana!"

"Merci!" she chirped and scampered off.

After a few dances, Moody and Esther parted ways and the kind-hearted brown-haired boy pulled up a chair next to Anne's.

"Moody, that was really wonderful of you. Thank you so much."

"The pleasure was all mine. Your friend Esther is a good dancer, and was it just me or did Ruby turn bright red at the sight of us?"

"I'm very sorry about what happened between the two of you, Moody."

"Oh, Anne, please, don't be. I was upset at first but I've gotten my head around it. I could be wrong, but in my heart of hearts I know Ruby and I aren't done for forever. She's just going to make me work for it, that's all. Did you see her just now? A new partner for every song! It's almost like she's caught up in the show of it all, not the substance. I can wait. What's that they say? All the good things are worth waiting for, right? Ruby's as good as they come in my opinion."

"Moody, I admire your pluck."

"Thank you, ma'am." He smiled. "Now what is this all about? You look positively grey. You, Anne Shirley-Cuthbert, are the opposite of a wallflower. May I have this dance? Gilbert will never forgive me if I simply let you expire over here in the corner."

"Oh, Moody, Ruby'll never ... "

"You leave Ruby to me! May I?"

"Of course." Moody took Anne's hand and led her to the floor. They laughed their way through a jaunty little two step and Anne finally started to relax. When the music changed, she felt a tap on her shoulder. There was Christopher, his arm extended.

"May I cut in?"

Anne accepted; it was the polite thing to do and, like Moody, Christopher was a good friend. Maybe even a bosom friend? It was too soon to know for sure but she was certain they shared a special bond. She hadn't anticipated a slower tune, however, and found herself just a little uneasy standing so close to someone who wasn't Gilbert. She knew Gilbert would understand - he wasn't the jealous type after all - and she was sure he would like Christoper as much as she did if they ever had the occasion to meet. Absolutely sure. Well, at least fairly confident.


	14. Chapter 14

Rehearsals increased in both frequency and intensity leading up to opening night. Anne was fortunate to have been such a voracious reader in her younger years or there is no way she would have been able to keep up with her school work. There were some in the cast not so lucky but they seemed to deem it a worthy sacrifice, or at least that's what they said every time they got back a failing grade. Anne suspected that they would regret having lost their places at college for Rosencrantz and Guildenstern but it wasn't her place to judge. She felt a little guilty for letting a few important stories sit ideally by at the paper, but her editor was a huge theatre fan and granted her an official leave of absence as a show of support for the production. Anne found out later that he'd auditioned for nearly every play produced the previous year but found his talents were better served as an enthusiastic reviewer and theatre club booster.

A day's train ride away Gilbert was taking the opposite approach: sacrifice all extra-curricular activities and diversions in service of one's scholastic and professional goals, and it was working for him. Gilbert was on the shortlist for the Osler internship and rumour had it it was between him and one other chap for the Gold metal. While his Toronto friends felt somewhat abandoned, he sent letters home without fail and Anne could hardly go a week without another rich and full note from her beloved. Gilbert corresponded with such regularity that at times Anne would receive two, and sometimes three, letters from him before she had an opportunity to write him back. By all accounts, though, he didn't seem to mind. He was happy Anne had found friends in Charlottetown and pleased that she had an outlet for her passion. He would have been lost without the Christine and the Trolly Dodgers this year and he knew it.

"Anne, do you think you ought to be spending so much time alone with Christopher? I mean, you and Gilbert are courting aren't you?" Dianne asked her bosom friend one evening, entirely out of the blue.

"Why Diana! I didn't take you for old fashioned. Can't a boy and a girl, I mean a woman and a man, be just good friends?"

"In theory yes, but give me a real life example."

"Well, Moody and I are fiends and there is zero romantic attachment there."

"That's different."

"Why?"

"You and Moody are friendly but you've never spent a moment alone together. You don't share your inner thoughts and feelings with him, or he with you. It's different. You and Christopher are so … close."

"Moody told me a secret just the other day at the social if you must know!"

"Anne, please, everyone knows Moody is carrying a torch for Ruby. It's not a secret! He tells everyone he meets."

"Okay, what about Jerry? Jerry and I are good friends and there is absolutely nothing between us nor will there ever be. Not in one million years. Ugh." She shivered.

"Thanks."

"No, Diana, please, I'm sorry. I didn't mean that. It's just that Jerry is … isn't … "

"It's fine, Anne. But it's not the same. Jerry is like a brother to you, or a cousin. He's also an employee of the Cuthbert's. There are plenty of controls in place. But with you and Christopher … Anne, you must see that he likes you." There was a long pause.

"The way he looks at you, Anne, I'm certain he has feelings for you," Diana added. An even longer pause lingered between them.

"Truthfully, Diana, I hadn't considered it until the social. When we danced that afternoon, though, I felt like maybe it meant something more to him than it did to me. Here's the thing, and I may be way out in left field here, but I think that's ok. Christopher knows my affections are otherwise engaged and I have been very careful not to lead him on. Assuming he has feelings for me, I don't see why they need interrupt our friendship, which means a great deal to me. I gues what I am saying is that I am fine with it."

"And Gilbert? Is Gilbert fine with it?"

"I assume so, although I guess I haven't spoken to him directly on the subject. I will make sure to discuss it in person if he visits over spring break."

"That's weeks away."

"I know, but it will give me an opportunity to get my head around the situation and figure out the right words."

"I suppose so."

"It's settled then. Thank you for the sounding board, Diana. Much appreciated!"

In the great tradition of the theatre, the final dress rehearsal for _Hamlet_ went terribly. Anne tripped on her costume and fell flat on her face, Christopher forgot his lines during all of the soliloquies, and the entire Company was just off. They left the auditorium deflated, in spite of the director's promise that a bad dress rehearsal is a good omen for opening night.

Anne had a fitful sleep and awoke with butterflies in her stomach that she simply could not shake as the day wore on. When she stepped in to play The Boy in the Avonela community pantomime a few years earlier, she hadn't had more than a moment to prepare. This time, she'd been preparing for weeks and was so very invested. This was no pantomime. This was Shakespeare. The Bard. The greatest playwright of all time. And _Hamlet_, the greatest play ever written.

"No pressure," she said to herself. "It's just a play. It's just a play."

Dressed, warmed up, and ready to go, Anne stood backstage watching as the curtain went up and the action of the play began. From the moment he made his first entrance, Christopher was magnificent. All of the hesitation and uncertainty he'd struggled with in the dress entirely melted away. Tonight, the audience couldn't take their eyes off of _Hamlet _and Anne was so pleased for her friend.

Anne's first costume was a cream-coloured gown, chosen to accentuate the highly charged politics of Ophelia's virginity and of course to catch the light. In the style of the period, it had an empire waistline and gathered in a few places along the sleeves. Anne wore her hair up in tightly woven braids for an aura of regalness and a little foreshadowing of Ophelia's forthcoming unravelling.

In typical Anne fashion, however, she rushed her first entrance and found herself alone on stage during what was supposed to be an extended transition at the beginning of Act 1, Scene 3. She looked around for Francis who was playing the role of Ophelia's brother Laertes but he was no where to be seen. Her heart stopped for a moment, and then from the wings:

"My necessaries are embark'd: farewell:"

It was Francis. He came running on. He wasn't wearing his coat on account of his quick change being cut short but he was there.

"And, sister, as the winds give benefit  
And convoy is assistant, do not sleep,  
But let me hear from you," stated Laertes, a little out of breath.

Anne breathed a sigh of relief, focused her mind's eye, and slipped entirely into character.

"Do you doubt that?" answered Ophelia.

Nothing could stop her now. Anne was on fire and the whole room could feel the heat.

When Ophelia graced the stage in Act 4, Scene 5 two hours later, every member of the audience gasped simultaneously. Anne has donned a second gown, this one flowy in rich green, gold, and brown earth colours. Her bright red hair was down and she wore a lush crown made of wild flowers upon her head. She was a vision, a ghost, an angel and the push and pull between her and Christopher was electric. Over the course of the scene, driven by Hamlet's cruelty and her father's death, Ophelia spiraled into madness and Anne's interpretation of her descent pulled no punches. Anne held nothing back - nothing. It was tragic. It was magic.

If the audience's response when the curtain went down was any indication, they were a hit! The post-show adrenaline rush was shared by all, and as a result it took the stage manager over half an hour to get everyone in the cast off the stage and into their dressing rooms. Anne dreamily removed her costume, piece by piece, methodically paying homage to each item before returning it to the dressing rack. She was so slow, in fact, that the assistant stage manager assumed she'd left and gave the crew the all clear to shut things down.

When Anne emerged, the stage was empty and the theatre dark. Swept up in the magic of the moment, she snuck back on stage and lit one of the footlights downstage centre. She stood there for many minutes, drinking in the light, letting it fill her. Slowly she raised her right hand, or rather, it levitated. She rotated it left to right, right to left, letting the light bounce here and there like a dance. She was so completely in the moment that she didn't see Christopher appear upstage left. He watched her for a long time. His gaze was full of such reverence, such tenderness, that no one could mistake his feelings for her: he was completely smitten.

Christopher opened his mouth, searching for the words. He was about to speak when there was an unexpected sound from the back of the house: the sound of one of the seats in the auditorium closing as someone stood.

"Sorry, sorry," came a quiet voice.

"Is someone there?" asked Anne, a tiny dose of fear in her voice. "Hello?"

Slowly, a tentative figure moved down the centre aisle towards the stage. It took forever for the stage lights to meet the mysterious man but when it did:

"GILBERT!"


End file.
